


Chosen

by Elensule



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: BDSM, Collars, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari, collaring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elensule/pseuds/Elensule
Summary: Garak questions his place on the station, but Julian knows the best way to reassure him.Kinktober day 8CollaringShibari
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think there's any TW for this one not in the tags. Please let me know if there's something.

"I don't think I can do this." Garak rarely spoke so candidly; it was fundamentally against his nature, but this relationship he'd agreed to required candor. "You might think that I am capable of change, but I would argue that I am a product of my training." He knew Julian wanted him to be... Something. Better, bigger, more honest. Garak didn't think he was lying when he said he didn't think it could change. 

Julian frowned. "You have been feeling that way for how long?" He was sitting on their sofa, with Garak kneeling beside him. 

"Long enough." He said, not quite sure how he intended to explain it. After all, the Federation sunny disposition always seemed to bleed into his partner's opinions of him. "I am chained to the Obsidian Order. They know that all they must do is whistle and I will be pulled in, regardless of my own personal desires."

Julian's eyes darkened. "I see. My dear Garak, I think I have underestimated your concerns." His fingers stroked through Garak's hair, and he waited until Garak had relaxed a bit before he continued. "You are an extremely loyal man, my dear. I certainly knew that about you when we began this endeavor." He smiled warmly, shifting. "But you are wrong about your chains. Because they were chains put on willingly, and they can be released." 

"What do you mean?" Garak shifted again, looking up at Julian questioningly.

"You are mine, now, Garak." Julian stood up abruptly. Garak scrambled to follow; it was unusual for Julian to move without offering any information; usually his partner liked to babble and fill the silence.

"I am yours," he agreed, the way he often did when he was trying to guide the conversation a bit more his own way. Julian was unlike anyone he'd ever known; sharp, but often operating on his own plane. Garak enjoyed bantering with him, if only because his responses were often so unpredictable. 

He followed Julian into the bedroom, trailing a few steps behind. "I was going to do this later, but I think you need it now." Julian was speaking from inside his wardrobe, and emerged holding a small box. He held it out to Garak, who took it gingerly. "Garak... You are one of the most beautiful, loyal men I have ever known. Please do me the honor of wearing this."

Garak opened the box to find a slim leather collar; it was clearly hand made, not replicated. He could see the slight imperfections in each stitch that indicated that it was made with actual tools, the pattern neatly aligned to center a small Starfleet Medical symbol at his throat, nearly hidden amongst the leaves adorning it. His heart skipped a beat. Before Julian, he could safely say that there was no one he would have even considered giving such a gift to; his life and his freedom were his own. Julian, though, was different. He was young and intelligent, and so,  _ so _ good. Garak could tell that Julian would never intentionally hurt him. He had no need of Garak's skills; he asked Garak to be his for the sake of loving him.

"You don't want me," he said, though every inch of him was screaming to say yes. "I'm not what you need."

"Do not presume to tell me what I need, Garak," Julian said firmly. "I am not saying that this collar has to be... permanent. Or even that it has to be agreed on today." He reached out a hand, stroking gently down Garak's cheek. "You will be mine for as long as you want to be. But do not tell me you are not what I want. I have already chosen you." 

"Yes, Julian." Garak flushed slightly, scaled skin hiding the feeling. He swallowed softly, looking down at the collar. Once he would have laughed at the idea that he would consider binding himself to someone else, let alone a  _ human _ , but now? He burned for the want of it. 

"I would have you, and their chains will not hold you any longer, Garak." Julian's hands closed around Garak's wrist, holding him gently. Garak nodded.

"I will wear it," he said, voice soft. 

Julian heard, regardless, and his smile made Garak's heart swell. He picked up the collar and held it out. "May I?"

Garak tipped his head, letting Julian have better access to his throat. The collar slid on like a second skin, made just for him. The soft kiss at his pulse point made him shiver, and Garak dropped his head. 

"You are mine," Julian said again. "And you are strong. They can call for you all they like, but you are not obligated to them, Garak." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Garak's cheek before stepping back. 

"Please," Garak said suddenly, surprising himself with the naked need he felt. "I want..." He mutely held out his hands, wrists together. They'd only done this a few times before, and each time Julian had initiated it. Garak craved the feeling, though, craved the knowledge that Julian would take him and not let him go.

"Go lie on the bed," Julian said, pressing a soft kiss to his chufa before turning back to his wardrobe. Garak lay back, staring at the ceiling until Julian's face returned into view. "You've been so good for me, Garak. Remember that they have no hold over you." Julian smiled, taking the long silken rope and winding it around Garak's wrists. "You belong to me." The first knot settled firmly against his hands, and Garak relaxed. 

Julian's voice flowed over him; Garak lost the words, but kept the meaning. He was chosen. He was held. He was loved. And by the time he lay immobile, bound from palm to shoulder, ankles to hip, he thought that perhaps he could believe it. 


End file.
